


hot & dizzy (in a tizzy)

by ficfucker



Category: Last Podcast on The Left (Podcast) RPF
Genre: Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M, Panic Attacks, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Softcore Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:47:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23950111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficfucker/pseuds/ficfucker
Summary: marcus has a panic attack. ben comforts him.
Relationships: Ben Kissel/Marcus Parks
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	hot & dizzy (in a tizzy)

**Author's Note:**

> thank you itemri for gifting me the live special i fucking love these dorks
> 
> title from cold + wet by ween

Even in the dark created by the thick curtains backstage, Ben can tell Marcus is having a tough time. His blue eyes are darting around low to the ground and he keeps fingering at a specific crease near the left pocket of his leather jacket. 

"Hey, Dogmeat," Ben says in a hush. He takes a sidestep closer. "Hey, bud, everything cool up there in the old thinker?" 

"Fuckin'..." Marcus giggles, nervous. His chest is starting to heave like a panting horse, the line of his jaw quivering with slippery tremors. "Gettin' nerved, man. Gettin' those fuckin' jitters I got the first time we…" 

"Okay. Okay. Shit." Ben's seen a lot from Marcus over the years and breakdowns, panic attacks are not foreign waters in the least. Ben places a hand between Marcus' shoulder blades, starts to rub soothing circles against the worn leather. "What can I do for ya, sweetheart? What's eating you?" 

"Just a lot. Lotta pressure, you know?" Marcus takes a gasping breath that Ben can feel expand his chest. "So much shit can go wrong, you know, and if the crowd doesn't like it- and Jesus fucking _christ_ , I'm not gonna be able to remember my lines like this—" 

Ben wraps his arms around Marcus in a tight hug, rests his chin on the top of Marcus' head. "Okay, okay. That's enough of that talk." 

Marcus slackens, watercolor bleeding into the warm, solid embrace of Ben, but his bones keep rattling like dishes during an earthquake. "Big venue. I'm sorry, Ben. Being a fuckin' idiot. Irrational," Marcus sputters. "I don't _want_ to be acting like this!" 

"Happens to the best of us," Ben murmurs. He gives Marcus another squeeze, pulls him impossibly closer. "You're gonna do great, babe. Tour is almost done and your research is— Fuck, Marcus, your research is incredible, the audience has gone nuts for it." 

Marcus is starting to come down, Ben can feel his trembling become arrhythmic, less and less power with each shudder, and this is when Henry strolls onto the scene. 

"No dry humping before the show, you know the fuckin' rules. Was law before you two started bumping uglies." 

"Not the fucking time," Ben warns. 

Henry cocks his head with genuine concern and squints, lowering his can of A&W from his lips. "What's the news then? Dogmeat going through a snap?" 

Ben fishes into the pocket of his jeans and produces a five dollar bill, shoves it at Henry. "Go to the vending machine and see if they've got grape soda and like, I dunno, Oreos or something." 

Money clutched in hand, Henry puffs up ramrod straight and salutes the two of them, and maybe a bit too loudly given the circumstances, announces, "On my way to procure nourishment for our Dogmeat!" With that, he takes a speedy leave. 

Ben shuffles Marcus around so they're chest to chest and he strokes his fingers through Marcus' hair. "Parking lot is probably packed, but we might be able to sneak out to vape real quick," he offers quietly. 

Marcus shakes his head and noses closer to Ben's chest. "Not worth the risk." 

"Gonna do great, man," Ben reiterates. "Got it on lockdown. Can go straight to the hotel after, 'kay? No after party or anything. Get through the fan meet and greet and-and then we'll be safe in the room." 

Marcus exhales and inches back from Ben, gives him a weak smile. "Gonna do great then go to the hotel," he confirms. 

Ben brings his hands up and cups Marcus' face in his palms, leaning down to give him a small kiss on the forehead. "Exactly." 

Henry returns some minutes later with a blue plastic package of mini Oreos and a can of grape soda, precisely as requested, and Marcus sits between the two of them while he snacks and drinks. Ben rubs his lower thigh and Henry gives him a brotherly slap on the back, pep talks him a little. A lot of magic and satanic imagery is used and it must work, because Ben watches Marcus perk up inch by inch like a time lapse of a pea plant growing.

* * *

Ben can't pick between kissing and talking and trying to do both at once is proving even more difficult than usual given the alcohol in his system. He speaks into Marcus' mouth when he says, "God, Parks, can't believe you. That bit about Agatha Christie and-and Bobby Joe Long? Blew me outta the water." 

Marcus smiles and gives Ben another kiss, walking them backwards until his legs touch the edge of the bed. "Oh, stop," he giggles. "You're just hoping I'll put out as a thank you for helping me come down before the show." 

Ben grins and kisses at Marcus' neck, stomach warming when Marcus eagerly turns his chin away to reveal more of the pale expanse of his throat. "I'm not hoping," he murmurs. "I  _ know _ you're gonna put out." 

Marcus wheezes, but it melts into a breathy moan when Ben gives him a love bite. "Oh yeah? What gives you that idea?" 

"The press of your boner against my hip," Ben teases, breaking into a smirk. He kisses back up Marcus' neck, peppers a few kisses under his ear that makes Marcus shiver. 

"Maybe," Marcus laughs, "Maybe I uh, maybe big Jim is excited cuz the show went off without a hitch." 

Ben paws down Marcus' front and starts to peel him out of his leather jacket, an act that Marcus takes into his own hands, dropping it to the bed. "Oh, a case of the Success Bone." Ben draws his hands around Marcus' back, grazing the seat of his jeans, and Marcus stiffens at the touch. 

"Benjamin Kissel…," he whispers. 

"Marcus Parks?" Ben replies, feigning confusion. 

"Don't. You. Dare." 

Ben smiles and tightens his arms around Marcus, and with a slight bend of the knees, he hoists Marcus up into his arms. Marcus yelps and octopus clings himself to Ben, fingers curling around the meat of Ben's biceps, legs locking around his lower back to ensure he doesn't slip. 

"Don't I dare what?" Ben asks once Marcus has quieted. 

Marcus dips closer so their lips almost brush and whispers, "'S'unfair." 

Ben can't help his smile, seems like he's lived his life smiling when Marcus is near and now it's doubly contagious, knowing Marcus is his. "What's unfair?" 

Marcus pulls a face similar to a pout, but his lips betray him and twitch at the corners. "Fact you can fuckin' lift me so easy! Ain't fair!" 

Ben leans them over the bed and lays Marcus down gently on the white sheets, kisses him a couple times before pulling away to start unbuckling Marcus' belt. "Oh, it's unfair? Because I think _someone_ might like it more than they're willing to admit." 

Marcus raises his hips up, wiggles side to side playfully. "Dunno who that'd be." 

"Hm…" Ben successfully snakes off the belt and works on Marcus' fly. "Well, he's handsome… and intelligent… annnnd he loves Ween probably more than anyone else on earth…" 

Marcus giggles and once Ben's got his jeans far enough down, he kicks them the rest of the way off. "Sounds like a cool fuckin' guy." 

Ben chuckles. "He is." Ben kisses down Marcus' left thigh. "And he did a killer fuckin' job on stage tonight, you wouldn't believe it." 

A gasp escapes Marcus and his body tenses, hands going down between his legs to tangle into Ben's hair. "Ben…," he whines, voice different all of a sudden, like it's no longer a game they're playing. 

"No, name isn't Ben… I think it's… Oh what is it again?" Ben mouths hotly over Marcus' erection through his underwear, flicks his tongue out to tease him, and Marcus squirms. "Oh, I remember. Marcus Parks!" 

Marcus tries to strain up, but Ben is knelt and pinning him, another display of Ben's strength and size, holding Marcus down by his slender hips without much effort at all. "Guh…!" 

Ben nuzzles his cheek to the line of Marcus' arousal, dips the fingers of his left hand into the waistband of his boxers to inch them down, devil slow with his tugging. "Marcus Parks, my genuis, gorgeous, stunning fucking boyfriend, that Marcus Parks." The lip of Marcus' boxers peel back enough that the pink head of his cock peeks out, puddling precum into the dark hairs of his happytrail. 

"Killin' me, darling." 

"Wanna make you feel good," Ben murmurs. He caves and gives Marcus some slack, curls a hand around his dick and strokes him lazily. "Want you to know how fucking good you are." 

Marcus digs his heels into the bed and pulls a hand away from Ben's hair to slip under his own shirt, smoothing his way to his chest to pinch harshly at his left nipple. He hisses, tries to cant his hips again. 

"Want me to show you?" Ben asks, voice low. "Show you how good you did tonight?" 

Marcus lolls his head back and nods, frantic, blows out of his mouth to flutter a few hairs from dropping into his eyes. "Motherfucker," Marcus grits. 

Ben laughs and twists his wrist, watches the way Marcus tightens beneath him, tight lines of muscles in his thighs flexing. Ben retracts his hand and Marcus makes a deflating sound. "How bout we get in the shower and I show you there." 

Blinking his eyes open, Marcus sits up and captures Ben in a fierce kiss, hot and frenzied, both hands to Ben's thick neck. "Carry me in," he demands. 

And Ben does exactly that. 

  


**Author's Note:**

> find me on tmblr @ficfucker


End file.
